


Gregstophe week 2019

by Ze_Mole



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, gregstophe week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 20:34:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19092637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ze_Mole/pseuds/Ze_Mole
Summary: My entries for Gregstophe week.June 3-10Hosted by @RedsAdmin





	1. Information

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gregstophe Week Entries.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19021417) by [RedsAdmin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedsAdmin/pseuds/RedsAdmin). 



Welcome to my uhhh collection of Gregstophe week entries!! A while ago I had saw RedsAdmin ( the creator of [Good Dog](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13878471/chapters/31929831) ) post on their tumblr questioning about Gregstophe week. I had posted a comment talking about how I had the idea of being it on June 3rd through the 9th, so uh- that's how this week was born pretty much? I forgot about it until I saw them post their first addition here on AO3-

Anyways, here's the days!

The ones that are bolded are the ones I'll be doing for each day.

 

June 3rd ( DAY 1 )  
**LOVE** // PARK // SOULMATE AU ( ie; red string, tattoos, etc. )

 

June 4th ( DAY 2 )  
**FEAR** // **NIGHT TIME** // **MONSTER AU**

 

June 5th ( DAY 3)  
**HAPPINESS** // **SCHOOL** // DIFFERENT ERA AU

 

Jun 6th ( DAY 4 )  
**ANGER** // **SHOVEL & SWORD** // **APOCALYPSE AU**

 

June 7th ( DAY 5 )  
**TIRED** // BED // **FAKE DATING AU**

 

June 7th ( DAY 6 )  
RELIEF // **HOME** // **ANGELS & DEMONS AU**

 

June 8th ( DAY 7 )  
**SADNESS** // **RAINSTORM** // **PROFESSION CHANGE AU** ( They have jobs they typically wouldn’t seen as having. )

 

June 9 ( DAY 8 )  
FREE DAY. DO WHAT YOU WANT.


	2. Day 1

It wasn't often the young boy would be staying up this late, especially on a school night, but for some odd reason he felt as if sleep wouldn’t be on the menu for the evening. About an hour or so ago, he had tucked himself under his blankets and stared at the blank wall to his left, his eyes only ever falling shut to blink. He made the plan to just lay in bed until his body decided to shut down, but there was a… peculiar sound at the window. A light tapping. Thinking it was just the tree outside his window, he ignored it, until it became knocking on the verge of turning into pounds. It startled him and caused him to sit up, looking over to the glass and squinting his eyes to get a better look. He made an attempt to look outside the window despite the darkness, and could hardly see anything but a faint figure. Besides that, not anything else. Might as well get up to see what was making the noise. It wasn’t like he had much to do other than stare at an empty canvas of a wall until his body said it was time to pass out, right? Kicking the covers off of his body, Gregory slides out of his bed and winces at the sudden cold his feet make contact with, but soon grows used to it as he makes short steps, almost in a manner of sneaking, to the window. Should he unlock it? Perhaps… but what if it was some sort of animal? Or worse, that Cartman kid…

No. It was definitely not Eric Cartman. The kid couldn’t climb a tree to save his life, now that he thought about it- especially with the pounds he had on his person. Hell, just thinking about that boy making an attempt to climb a tree had Gregory in a fit of giggles- but this was no time to laugh. There was someone- or something- waiting outside his window. If he wanted to find out what or who it was, he needed to open it! Obviously… 

Quickly, Gregory unlocks the window and pushes two little handles in different directions, before grabbing the bottom of the window and pulling it up. Outside the window, he saw a face he was far too familiar with- the one of a French boy by the name of Christophe.

“ _ What are you doing out here so late? _ ” He whispered in a somewhat soft tone, an eyebrow raising in question as he leaned on the windowsill. “ _ It’s rather late… my parents will have your head if they see you trying to break into our house!” _

Christophe crawls a little bit closer on the branch he’s on, rolling his eyes at the idea of Gregory’s parents beheading him. They didn’t have the guts to do that, or they’d be spilled everywhere at the sight of blood. As much as they’d like him dead, they wouldn’t do it themselves unless they had the opportunity to cleanly do it. 

“I wanted to see you, obviously.” A small snort follows as Christophe reaches an arm out to grab the part of the windowsill Gregory was leaning on, leaning forward so they were nearly face to face. “You don’t ’ave problems with that, no?”

“ _ Lower your voice just a tad bit, would you, Tophe? You’re speaking at a volume that will alert my parents.” _

_ “... Volume?” _ Christophe had done as asked, but his expression showed a bit of confusion as he tried to piece together what that word exactly meant. Christophe knew quite a bit of English, sure- he  _ had _ been in America for quite a few years at this point, but he didn’t have a secure grasp on the language just yet. “ _ What does that mean?” _

_ “... How loudly you’re speaking or the noise of something. For example, if the television is too loud, someone would tell you ‘hey, could you turn the volume down on the television? I’m trying to read!’”  _ It was quite often Gregory would have to add an example as well for Christophe to understand what he was on about, and this time it seemed to be a success as he nods slowly, his lips pursed as he looks over Gregory’s shoulder into his room. 

“ _ Can I be inside?” _

_“It’s ‘let inside’, Tophe.”_ _  
__“Shut up. You understood what I meant. Let me in.”_

With a roll of his ocean blue eyes, Gregory grabs a hold of Christophe’s hand, tightly gripping it as he gestures for the other to come forward. “ _ I’ve got you, Tophe. Just come on in.”  _

_ “Right.” _ Giving a nod, he inches closer to the window, grabbing the windowsill with his other hand as he moves a knee on as well, sending a grin to the other as he felt he made it safely- well, until he somewhat lost his balance, falling off the window and onto the floor below. 

It had earned a gasp from Gregory for sure, who quickly had begun to panic and look around the room. “ _ Christ almighty, my parents must have heard that! Tophe- go in the closet-” _ Gregory points and bounces lightly on his heels, grabbing the other by the back of the collar of his shirt as he tugged him up from the ground.  _ “Be more careful next time, damn you!” _

_ “Choking, choking-” _ Christophe gags as he’s pulled along to the closet, being shoved atop a pile of neatly folded blankets and a variety of stuffed animals. Odd- most of these he hadn’t seen before! It was either they were new or had been hidden away from anyone but Gregory’s eyes. Next thing he knew, the closet doors were shut and he was without the light of the moon and stars shining in the room. It was pitch black. 

Meanwhile, Gregory had climbed back into bed before his bedroom door was slowly opened.  
_“Gregory?”_ It was a woman’s voice- his step-mother’s to be more exact. A woman he despised with every fiber that made up his being. She was the quick, easy, and somewhat rich replacement of his mother, who had died a few years after he was born. Sure, he didn’t remember much, but there was a part of him who despised his father for replacing her so quickly and easily, and he _especially_ hated his step-mother who tried to slip into the role of ‘mother’ far too easily. “ _What was that sound?”_

 _“Oh! It was nothing, I can assure you, mother. Just something fell in my closet. I picked it up! I’m returning to bed.”_ To top it off and make it as convincing as possible, Gregory smiles and tilts his head to the side, some of his blanket gather in his hands as he held it close to his chest. _“I’m sorry I woke you, I truly am. I’ll make it up to you when school is done with for the week.”_  
“... _Right._ ” She sighs and shakes her head. “ _I’m returning to bed as well. You’re lucky it wasn’t your father who woke up, or he would’ve given you a harder time, I can have you count on that. Goodnight. Go to bed.”_ His step-mother steps out of the room and slowly shuts the door behind her, the shuffling of her feet being heard as she made her way back down the hall. Gregory sighs in relief and lets go of the blankets, sliding back out of bed and quietly hurrying back over to the closet to let Christophe out. 

“ _ Tophe, it’s clear. You’re able to come out now..”  _ Gregory opens the door a tad to allow Christophe to slide out, watching him do so. 

“Thank-” Christophe didn’t finish his sentence, feeling a hand clamped over his mouth, and Gregory glaring down at him in a warning. He was speaking too loud. Right. Low volume. He reaches up and grabs Gregory’s wrist, yanking it off of his mouth. “ _ Thank you, asshole.” _

“ _ Right- now… why did you want to see me this late? Out of all times of the day, why did you decide to come this late? It’s…” _ Gregory looks over to the clock on the wall, hardly making out the time. _“Almost eleven…”_

_“I ‘ave things for you. I saved money and bought them myself. For you.”_ Christophe shoves Gregory over to the bed and slides a messenger back down his arm, carefully setting it down on the floor. _“I ‘eard you talk about thing you wanted, so… I bought them.”_

_ “If it’s more than one, Christophe, it’s ‘things’.” _

_“Too sleepy to care, shut up.”_ Christophe moves to sit on his knees, opening the bag and pulling out a few items. Two books and a small box. _“I ‘ope you like it. I care sometimes, you know.”_

“ _I know you do, Tophe._ ” Gregory leans forward on his knees, rolling his eyes as he idly swung his legs. _“Show me what you’ve got for me. You know I can be awfully impatient with surprises.”_

“ _... yes. I know._ ” He pushes himself up and shuffles over, holding out the items. Gregory takes them into his hands and leans over to his bedside table to pull on the beads leading from his lamp. Now there’s a faint light glowing in the room so Gregory can clearly see what he’s holding. _“Let’s see… oh, two books and a box of chocolates- you shouldn’t have, Chri-”_

_“... I… I can take them back?”  
“No, no! Not what I meant… I meant you should’ve have gotten them for me, but I appreciate them so very, very much! It means the world you’d get me a gift out of the blue.”_

_ “... Tomorrow is la Saint-Valentin, Gregory.” _

_“... Pardon?”  
“... Hearts day.”_

“ _Oh_!” Gregory’s eyes lit up and he leans over to a calendar above his bed. “ _I didn’t notice, how silly of me… I haven’t gotten anything for you, I completely forgot. Thank you, Christophe. Let’s see…_ ” He picks up one of the books from his lap and looks over the cover, gasping suddenly in realization. “ _Romeo and Juliet! Oh, Tophe- that’s so sweet… you really do listen to my rants, don’t you?_ ”  
“ _I try… I try to read that, too, but… too big of words, yes? I could ‘ardly understand it. Though, I saw your name in there…_ ” Christophe moves to sit down before Gregory on the floor, his hands resting on his lap.

Gregory nods and sets it to the side, looking at the next book. He smiles and glances down to Christophe. “You really  _ do listen to me, Tophe. I’ve never talked about this one aloud, only under my breath to see if you’d listen. I’ve always wanted Lord of the Flies. I’ve heard good things about it. A good look into boys just like us being left alone on an island after a plane crash, and seeing them slowly go primitive.”  _

_ “Pri… Primi… teev-” _

_ “I’ll tell you what that word means tomorrow, Tophe.”  _ Gregory moves to the floor and pulls Christophe into a hug, resting his head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around his torso.  _ “Thank you, Christophe. You’re such a good friend, you know that?” _

_ “... Friend. Yes. About fr-” _

_ “It’s getting awfully late though… please go home, as much as I hate to have to send you home, I need you to get going for your own sake. It’s late… oh, I know what I can give you for Valentine’s! Hold on just one moment, Tophe.”  _ Gregory pulls from the hug and walks over to the closet, leaning down and shuffling through before turning around. He holds up a stuffed animal- one Christophe had briefly caught sight of while he was inside. A stuffed giraffe, one eye missing, most likely to some sort of adventure reenactment Gregory did by himself. Slowly, he holds out his hands and takes it from Gregory as he draws closer, looking it over and lightly tracing his fingers over the hairs forming its mane down its long neck. 

_“... Thank… Thank you, Gregory. Joyeuse saint Valentin, Gregory. ‘appy Valentine’s.”_ He carefully puts the stuffed animal into his messenger bag and stands, looking up to the blonde with a toothy grin- something that was awfully rare from the French boy. It wasn’t that visible, but there was a touch of pink as well. Turning on his heels, Christophe heads straight for the window and slowly climbs out onto the tree, looking over one last time to Gregory and waving, mouthing a goodbye as he slowly and carefully climbs down the tree to solid ground.

 

In France, Valentine’s day isn’t celebrated by people giving things to express friendship. It wasn’t children showing up to school to exchange cards and candy. It wasn’t giving your family or relatives gifts of chocolates and roses No. It was exclusively for people who had some sort of romantic attraction and/or interest in each other. 

And let’s just say, Christophe is thinking about his actions far differently from how Gregory is taking them.

How foolish of young Christophe to think French and American cultures are similar in any way.


End file.
